


Regret of Being Left Alone

by R_S



Series: Finally Alone [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Dealing with Dealing, Heavy Drinking, It's a pretty night on Sunny's lawn deck., Other, PTSD, Post Dressrosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S/pseuds/R_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Strawhats deal with dealing. It has certainly not been the easiest 2-and-a-bit years. Things have gone unsaid... There's also a bunch of delicious food, and booze, and nighttime sea-air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regret of Being Left Alone

**Author's Note:**

> !!!Note on the Series!!! 
> 
> This is the base work where all the other works in the Series will pick up from, that is why there are no smutty pairings in this, only implied. There will be a variety of smutty pairings in the Series. All works in the Series will be one offs, limited to only one main pairing (Unless somebody asks for something special, I love to take requests). Wordcount will vary.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are welcome! and as usual, all rights belong to the all might Oda. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Zoro let his head tip back, neck confidently supported by a slight curve of Sunny’s rail. A few stars are already out, little white gems glittering on waves of purple-pink-sky. The green haired first mate relaxes in a familiar reclined position, one leg propped up on one of many barrels scattered about the lush lawn. 

An event which always occurs when said barrels are being emptied. 

“…and when the Giant Weegle Beatles were finally defeated, I was to be their King.” 

“Ehhhh?!” Chopper’s brown eyes are wide. The little reindeer-fruit-user they picked up in some frozen world long ago. A doctor, who one day will cure any disease. He had a new hat on, but those little antlers poking through were the same as before. 

“But I could not!” Dramatized their curly-black-haired sniper. Usopp’s long nose waggling as he speaks. “A Brave Warrior of the Sea can never settle down! The Jolly Roger is always calling me!” he punched the air, somehow managing not to spill a single drop of beer. 

“Aye, it’s calling. It’s telling you your feet stink too much for royalty.” Sanji hiccupped from where he’s sitting on a long bench, back supported by Sunny’s main mast. Usopp and Chopper faced the blonde cook, Usopp on the tree-swing and Chopper crossed-legged in the grass. His quip, born out of copious amounts of alcohol, still got a general laugh from everyone; even inspiring Franky into reminding Usopp that his socks could be used as diversionary weaponry… and, in fact, had been. 

Sanji snorts, flicking ash from the end of his cigarette. He’s dressed only in his shirttails, trousers, and belt with his watch firmly clipped to it… well… he’s also got bandages on, but he doesn’t much care to think about that. The cook stretches back his neck, hearing a line of close vertebra snap like the teeth of a zipper, resting back with a sigh with both bare feet sinking into the cool grass that tickled between each toe. He was tired. Having spent all day cooking the feast that had been joyfully decimated in a matter of less-than-an-hour. He had enjoyed himself; making barbequed elephant tuna steaks under the sun, and fresh mikan-glazed sea-pig kabobs, cool minty sorbet with flakes of coco, egg-rice and flat noodles… He had made an array of the crew’s absolute favorite dishes, like Luffy’s pork-wrapped-anything-made-of-meat-surprise, and Robin’s black olive quiche. For Nami, the blonde had prepared a bowl of peeled mikan wedges, rinsed and let set to chill in the refrigerator for a short time so that when he presented them to her under the sun they glittered. Sanji even made pink cotton candy for Chopper, happily discovering some new improvements Franky had made to the galley kitchen since they’d reunited.

Sanji fingered his lighter, rolling the smooth metal over each strong knuckle as he smoked. He was exhausted, but in a good way, because this was more than a mere feast on the lawn under the stars. It was a celebration! Tonight was the first night the Strawhats would be alone together since… Since they had been so violently ripped apart. Tonight there was no honor-bound Samari shouting at Zoro, no lecherous Momo slipping in between Robin and Nami’s bedsheets. No Trafalgar Law and imprisoned gas-bag-clown stirring up the Marines. 

No. 

They were just them, the Strawhat Nakama. 

Their captain, Monkey D Luffy was worth four-hundred-million now. He hadn’t even known it until they reached Fishman Island. Since they had been separated, Luffy had visited the island of women, and eaten magic mushroom, scaled Six Levels of Hell to shake hands with death, and all that before having watched his brother die. None of them really knew what had happened to their broken captain after the Battle of the Best. Those two years training in unknown places. Of course there had been no time to sit down and talk about it. Sprinting down to the bottom of the sea, defending a kingdom from drug-crazed fishmen… then there was Punk Hazard, then Dressrosa…. Great Blue Sea Gods… had they really been back together so long? 

It felt like just yesterday he was running from those shitty pink demons on Momoiro, shamefully afraid for his precious masculinity. Ivankov’s purple hair will haunt him until the day he dies… he’s dead sure of that. Sanji smiles to himself when a new star appeared in the darkling sky just behind the billowing sails of the Thousand Sunny, fabric lit from below by little lamps hung in the rigging. 

“Where did you go?” 

“It was… an awful place. Cold. Hard…” 

It was Robin’s quiet sob that caught Sanji lifting his chin. Robin sat nearby on a blanket in the grass, half leaning against their Shipwright’s massive chest. The cook blinks, staring at Franky though his own personal haze of yellow smoke. The man was huge, much bigger than when he’d joined the crew, and he wasn’t small then. Enormous round shoulders, which Sanji had seen in action containing cannons and projectiles. His fire-breathing had improved. He’d gotten very lucky, apparently, wherever he’d been sent away to – with all the upgrades to his BF-37.

Sanji shuttered, hoping that those letters and numbers did not mean when he thought they meant. 

“But there was kindness there. W-where I was sent.” Robin sighed, her dark hair fanning across the large man’s forearm. 

Sanji didn’t try and strain his ears to hear whatever it was his dear Robin-chwan was telling their brash pervert. The man still wore speedos without pants, though his shirts varied in new and refreshing degrees of formality. 

Brook sat not too far away from Sanji, boney body perched up on top of an empty barrel with violin in arm. His fleshless fingers gripping the frog of the bow in what looked awkward, but the cook knew it was the only way Brook was going to keep a hold. The slight sawing at cat-gut strings washed over them like a thin blanket, as if he were tucking them in with a soft lullaby that unless paid close attention to – could barely be heard. 

Zoro lifted his arm to drain the last of the sake left in that bottle. Looking around in a fuzzy daze afterwards. He had allowed himself to get that drunk. He didn’t usually. He wasn’t sure why he was inclined to do it tonight. Maybe it was because the shit cook was staying well back, staring at everyone. Let him do whatever he likes, he doesn’t have time to fight with Sanji. He’s much more concerned with his captain, and now that they were finally alone – well, maybe he can get some real answers. 

If Luffy noticed had noticed his first mate’s eyes on him, he made no signs that he did. He laughed like before, and often. He’d been laughing non-stop, actually, ever since they had taken away from Dressrosa. After having said goodbye to his last surviving brother, Sabo. Zoro frowned. Luffy was laughing even now, sprawled out in the grass on his back with the lamp light glinting off his drunk-sweaty face, belly stretched out to ridiculous proportions. Luffy’s old vest with its gold buttons was gone, and Zoro’s not sorry one bit about that. How often had he been delayed by those five gold buttons? Luffy had been dressed by the Kuja, and though they had forgone literal frills out of respect to his ‘strange male’ wishes, it was made with wide flays of fabric, giving the garment a grandiose look while at the same time stretching and moving in just the right way to accommodate a new arsenal of bizarre techniques that just kept coming – one after the other. Though, because the shirt did not button in the front, it left Luffy’s chest exposed. The wide, thick burn he’d received… a parting gift from that bastard Akainu, who took his brother away. It was this that clawed away on the other side of Zoro’s chest… That his captain could be left so disfigured, whereas everything previous that they had ever experienced left not even a white line. Luffy’s body is always quick to metabolize food, and he’d his own shape again in no time, that new red shirt falling shut to cover the majority of his scar. 

Zoro’s stomach complained, and his eyes swam. More booze should fix that, so he reached for another corked bottle of sake sitting in the grass right alongside the many… many barrels. In a second he had pulled the cord and cork, a third of it upended and down his throat before lowering the neck and gulping at the night’s chilly salt-seasoned air. 

He’d drank at the banquet on Fishman Island after they’d defeated the New Fishman Pirates, and later after the birdcage came down in Dressrosa. Why *he had to be fighting Pika all the time, he didn’t know. He’d have much preferred that sort-of-blade-man. When Sanji heard about that he nearly shit a brick, shouting about poor delicate flowers in a field of flowers. Little shit hadn’t heard that Rabecca was an undefeated Gladiator just like her dad.

Zoro wasn’t sure why he was drinking so much, and he knew it was too much. Originally he’d kept just the other side of sober, enough not to punch people. People that DIDN’T belong on the Thousand Sunny with their crew so newly reformed. The first mate felt the breeze coming off the sea, gently pushing at his green hair, a little longer than it had been before. He had watched his captain during those time they had been surrounded by people. Seen him zip about between tables of food until he’d get stopped and have to shake hands with someone. It had happened in Alabasta, later on Water7… everywhere actually… only now he would immediately still, nodding his head politely. Luffy didn’t used to have control over himself in this way, never batting an eyelash, even if he had managed all the bowing and speaking (albeit, with his mouth full). This change reminded Zoro of Ace… and that reminder tortures him, so he drinks again. These new set of mannerisms Luffy’s gain still give him cold shivers, because they certainly had not been there before their crew’s… rapture. Not that Luffy wasn’t still loud and carefree still, yet… it was a different captain than the one Zoro had followed out of East Blue. 

Zoro’s observational haki whispered in his ears, his jade eyes refocusing onto Brook. The Strawhat musician’s music had faded away without his notice, unfolding himself from his seat atop a barrel and striding gracefully across the grass with that ridiculous gold crown in his hat. 

“Luffy-san~” Brook says, and it sounds like poetry. Bending at the waist so that his dark afro is just above his captain’s face. “It occurs to me that I have not said this properly, since we have all come back together… with everything that has happened. So please allow me to say this now~” 

Robin smiled from where she sat, Franky’s arm around her, glinting as they caught the lamplight overhead. 

“Thank you! Truly! For keeping our promise to reunite.” Brook straightened up, throwing his arms wide. “Truly, thank you! Everyone!” 

“Idiot.” Sanji’s grinning with alcohol-reddened cheeks. He can’t hide the blush on his cheeks, however, truly moved by his shipmate’s words. “Where’s the dumb joke, eh?” 

Brook lowered his hands slowly, voice coming out low and hollow – echoing through all the empty bones that are all that now remain of his physical body. Luffy’s pushing himself up off the grass as Brook speaks. “It is true,” the ninety-one-year-old says, empty sockets facing forward, though they’re always unclear where Brook’s attention really is. “Yo-ho-ho. I could say I feared the worry would give me a heart attack, but that I have no heart to be attacked.” Continues the skeleton, and it was humorless. “I could say that I chewed my fingernails to the bone, though I am already nothing bones… But, some things are no joke.” Brook’s removed his bedazzling crown, bow his black-afro-ed head before his captain. How many years was it? Fifty? Seventy? He had lost all track of the time during that endless night floating in the Florian Triangle. Trapped on a ship without sail or rudder. His nakama… all dead around him, his ship… dead… and Brook was less than dead. Until that moment Luffy had come –the man in the straw hat with its red ribbon, shouting and laughing, and wearing that smile that saved him. 

“Truly, what do you owe the man who gives you your third life?” 

Zoro upended what remained in the sake bottle into his mouth while Luffy stood before the taller musician. He wasn’t smiling now. He was kind of… leering? Zoro tipped more sake across his tongue, turning dizzily to find Sanji staring at him. 

The blonde’s visible eye was actually a different color than the other, though still blue, just a greener shade. It confused Zoro for a while, because even though he couldn’t tell his left from right, he really couldn’t figure out Sanji’s left from right. Add in the fact that Mihawk took his left eye, and he doesn’t give a fuck if it wasn’t on purpose or not, and Zoro’s not only turned around, but finding himself in odd corners. Not that it bothers him to get out of those corners.

“What you lo- lookin’ng at, Blondie?” Zoro asks, keeping his voice down. Sanji is actually closer to him than Luffy and Brook are, so nothing he says is going to mess up their conversation, so long as they aren’t shouting at each other. 

Sanji took another drag of his cigarette, tapping lightly to knock a little ash into the grass. “Looking at some pretty drunk shitty moss.” 

The cook’s hands had changed in the last year, Zoro had noticed, he’d noticed that very first day when the cook fisted up a handful of his hamaraki and hauled him up on the Archipelago, bitching that Zoro had gotten on the wrong ship. “What’s it to you?” asks the green haired man, listening to his earrings chiming in the cool sea-breeze that brought spray up against the railing, hitting the back of his neck with little reassuring touches that he was back at sea, on the Blue, and not locked up in Dracule’s dungeon. 

Sanji finished smoking his cigarette before Zoro brought his one eye back down to him. “That bad, huh?”

“What?” 

“Where you were?” Sanji’s put his hands behind his head, leaning back into the smooth Adam wood mast. 

“I left Brook alone… again.” Luffy said quietly, and everyone on deck heard it. Nami bent forward to refill her fifteenth mug of beer, giving their captain a moment to gather his thoughts before they intruded “Alone, like before.” 

Brook’s bony fingers rattled slightly as they came to rest on Luffy’s shoulder, the boy tipping his hat down to hide his face. To Brook, Luffy will always be a boy – because for crying out loud, he was seventy years older than him. 

Luffy’s insides are twisted like snakes all tied up together in a deep hole. It had been a selfish decision, to ask everyone to wait two years before regrouping. He wanted to see them, to get stronger together, because they were nakama… They were family… When he finished his own training early, and Reighley told him that he would be going on ahead, he could not have felt more alone. The dark had faces and voices that tried to hurt him, and when the sun came up it brought with it the many dangers of the deserted island. He had been so wrapped up in his own life, he hadn’t realized that he’d left Brook, something he promised his nakama would never happen! 

Luffy flinches when the skeleton’s head comes up sharply and a high wild Yohohoho! Escapes from his lipless mouth. “But you came back! Yohohohoho!!!!” 

“That’s right!” Nami leans forward, a half-full mug of beer held in one hand. “Luffy!” 

Luffy turned towards his navigator, features pinches, even as he fought to bring himself to laugh. Zoro turned away from Sanji, sensing the disturbance in his captain’s haki. 

Sanji also turned his head, getting up and walking a few paces. Lowering himself down in the grass Sanji pokes at Zoro’s splayed legs. “For gods’ sakes sit up straight.” 

“Bite me, Cook.” Zoro’s voice is not half as threatening as it usually is, and the blonde knows why. 

Nami’s three bottles of wine down, but she gets to her feet as steady as ever, only her cheeks give her away, flushed as her flaming hair that’s fluttering against her back in the nighttime air. “I have something to say too.” She says, stepping up to her captain. 

Brook bows, retreating to the bow where he’ll play all night, maybe. He didn’t need to sleep, after all. Perhaps he will play until the last of his beloved crew retire for the evening. Yes. He will do that. 

Nami had jammed a finger into Luffy’s rubbery chest when she said she had something to say to him, but after a moment she let her hand fall, placing her palm over the ruined chest she had often cried into. 

Luffy waits, quietly. Zoro’s not sure he’s ever seen Luffy wait quietly before… no matter who it is.

“I was prepared to find you.” The Strawhat navigator says. She’s reaching forward to take Luffy’s hands, and he allows her to. “I was prepared to look for you, using all my skills. For the rest of my life.” Nami gasps once, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. 

“N-Nami!” Luffy’s eyes go wide, and Sanji can’t blame him, but he knows when to let his sweet flower cry. 

“To lead you to Raftel, Luffy. How were you going to become King without me, without any of us. I had to find you, and find the others, but when… when I saw the paper, about Ace.” 

Luffy had thought he’d be prepared to hear others talk about his brother’s death. Luffy had heard Reighley say Ace’s name… but Nami… When she said it, everything came crashing in, and he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. 

Nami didn’t try to say more, only bit her own lip, reaching forward to take her captain into her arms. Luffy is taller than he was, and is taller than Nami, which he certainly wasn’t before they had been separated. She pressed her palms into Luffy’s back, pulling him into her hug and keeping him there. 

Luffy hugged a lot. Every day, every one, but they were quick – and so common that they ranked borderline impersonal. That was not what Nami wanted to express to him. She pulled his scared chest into her body, mostly skin to skin, because she only wore a bikini these days. The imperfections of her captain’s flesh felt like knives against her, but she welcomed that pain, and allowed his arms around her waist, resting his shin on her shoulder as air pushed in and out of his chest.

“She got him crying.” Sanji observed, reaching for and lighting a new cigarette. 

Zoro watched the hike and shiver in Luffy’s shoulders, arms around Nami’s smooth, lightly tanned body. He was happy this sort of thing didn’t bother him anymore. Not like it used to. Of course, he wasn’t sure things were like they used to be. But fuck… that was why he was so goddamn drunk. 

“Luffy needs more than tears, right now.” The first mate scoffs, tipping the bottle only to find it empty. Sanji leers at Zoro’s offended expression before the bottle his hucked unceremoniously behind him and over the railing into the sea. Hopefully the Blue won’t throw it back. 

“Because you know exactly what he needs.” The cook scoffed. 

A little ways away Franky was noisily blowing his nose into one of Robin’s handkerchiefs. For the biggest guy on the ship he sure was a ham. Usopp and Chopper were drinking again, sharing stories from wherever it was they were at. Sanji had caught snip-its here and there of where those two had managed to go, but seeing as it wasn’t full of a bunch of crazy transsexuals or transsexual wana-bees just waiting for their Okama King to come home from his pilgrimage to change them… he wasn’t too bothered to care where those two shitheads had gone. 

The waves licked at Sunny’s sides, the occasional sparkle of spray being caught in the lamplight just when Nami steps away. A dazzle from those waves is reflected in Luffy’s swimming eyes, his mouth open, but no words managing to be formed. Both his hands balling into rubbery fists to tremble at his sides. 

“I will navigate the Thousand Sunny to Raftel. I will take us there, and around the world again!” Nami crowed, reaching for an unattended mug and downing its contents, wiping foam on the back of her arm before fixing her raven haired captain with a determined and cat-like smile, declaring; “Because you will be the Pirate King!”


End file.
